


you make me aware of breathing

by FullmetalChords, mother_hearted



Series: Toki and Meg's Faerghus Husbands AU [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Body Image, Developing Relationship, First Kiss, M/M, Making Out, No War AU, Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:08:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25926400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FullmetalChords/pseuds/FullmetalChords, https://archiveofourown.org/users/mother_hearted/pseuds/mother_hearted
Summary: Kissing someone - no. Kissing Claude in particular feels so much better than Dimitri ever thought it would.Claude is so - warm, under him. His body lithe underneath Dimitri’s, strong, yet soft, too, stomach pressing into Dimitri’s when he takes a breath. Without even thinking about it, Dimitri reaches under Claude’s shirt. Just to feel him. Just to know that this is real.That the boy he’s secretly admired for so many moons has finally decided to…!--Late one night at Garreg Mach, Dimitri and Claude begin exploring their feelings.Co-written between FullmetalChords and mother_hearted, and posted for day 1 of dmclbdayweek!
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Claude von Riegan
Series: Toki and Meg's Faerghus Husbands AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1881556
Comments: 6
Kudos: 110





	you make me aware of breathing

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, Dimiclaude friends!
> 
> This fic has been written RP-style, with shifting points of view between Dimitri (handled by the incomparable mother_hearted) and Claude (me). While not strictly falling under the prompts made for Dimiclaude Birthday Week, we've written so much together and thought this week of celebration would be a good opportunity to share the little universe we've created!
> 
> Today's offering (and, by extension, all the rest of it) was inspired by [this lovely art](https://twitter.com/bigjing_tt/status/1236032085099302915/photo/1) by bigjing_tt on Twitter.

Claude doesn’t know how they got here, but he’s just as sure he doesn’t want to leave.

Tonight had been… simple, when things had started out. He’d been at the library, late as usual, studying for his upcoming cavalry exam… Dimitri, also as usual, had been there as well, stopping by his table to help him digest the key points that would be on the test. This gentlemanly prince, walking back with him to the dorms -- 

How did they get here? He can barely remember… and yet, he is undeniably here. On his back, in bed with Dimitri. Their first kiss -- Claude’s first kiss with anyone, period -- has carried on for many heavenly minutes now, a prolonged embrace that makes Claude’s whole body feel aflame. 

He does not want to open his eyes. He knows if he does, he’ll see Dimitri looking back, and what he’ll see… what he’ll see…

Oh, what does Dimitri see in him, anyway?

Dimitri does not want to blink. Does not want to miss a moment of this, of Claude von Riegan in his bed - _kissing_ him. He’s right here, beneath him, giving little kitten licks to the seam of Dimitri’s mouth, making him feel like steam will come out when he exhales. And it might as well do - for as soon as his lips part, Claude’s tongue slips between them, making Dimitri feel hotter than any oven. 

Kissing someone - no. Kissing Claude in particular feels so much better than he ever thought it would. 

Claude is so - warm, under him. His body lithe underneath Dimitri’s, strong, yet soft, too, stomach pressing into Dimitri’s when he takes a breath. Without even thinking about it, Dimitri reaches under Claude’s shirt. Just to feel him. Just to know that this is real. 

That the boy he’s secretly admired for so many moons has finally decided to…!

He feels Claude shiver against him. Fingers tangle in the back of Dimitri’s shirt as Claude reaches. 

“Claude…” The other boy’s name catches on his breath, Dimitri’s fingers wandering ever higher on Claude’s torso. “What does it, ah.” He feels himself flush. “Does this… feel like anything?”

His fingers twitch, an inch from Claude’s pectoral. So curious to know what he’s feeling right now. 

Claude laughs, softly, uncertain. Trying to keep an easy smile on his face, in spite of everything Dimitri is currently making him feel. 

"Of course it does. It feels like... you, touching me." Fingers curling against his chest in a way Claude can't anticipate… it's nervewracking. It's delicious. He wants to explore it from every angle. "Your hand is… so warm."

Like Dimitri is enjoying touching _him_ , touching Claude, and not just the first warm body to find its way into the prince’s bed. 

He's reluctant to ask Dimitri what this feels like to him. Claude already expects a rejection of sorts, for Dimitri to look away from him tomorrow morning out of embarrassment that this happened… but that’s not something he wants to think about now, before he’s had a chance to enjoy any part of this.

"...Good. I imagined - ah." Dimitri blushes darker. Eyes flicking away, knowing he's revealed himself. Well.... he's already here on top of Claude in his room. It's already too late to keep up any front. So. "I imagined it would feel good... my hands on your skin."

"Yeah?" Claude gives him a little crooked grin, tightening his arms around Dimitri's neck. "You imagined, huh, your princeliness? You naughty boy." 

It’s the flirtiest thing he can think to say in the moment, wanting to see Dimitri’s face turn even pinker. But he feels himself blush, too. For goodness' sake, his tongue was just in Dimitri’s mouth. Who is he trying to fool? 

"Don't tease me." Not like that. It’s embarrassing how Claude feels his gut flip at Claude calling him _naughty._ Urgh. "You are always-" Dimitri sulks, lips full and pressed together. "This is the one area I struggle to keep up with you..."

"Keep up with me?" 

Claude frowns. Is his complete lack of experience not blatantly obvious? He moves his hand to Dimitri's cheekbone, stroking it with his thumb, learning his shape. 

"I don't know what...impression you've had of me, but..." He clears his throat. "Never found myself in anyone else’s bed before. And the fact that you… you thought of me..." Gods, his face is so heated. This is embarrassing. "I like it."

What? Does he think Dimitri is calling him easy? Dimitri can't help his scowl deepening before Claude blooms red under him. Oh. There's much less air in his lungs. Is it normal to feel this lightheaded? And Claude's chest is still under his hands... but he doesn't want to move them. 

He tries to clear his throat. "I meant you are always flirting... always making my head spin with your wit and your wicked tongue." And how wonderful that tongue felt in his mouth. Hhh. "I could not shake you from my thoughts if I tried." 

"...nor have I ever wanted to. Are you sure you enjoy this? Being under me?"

Dimitri is always so...earnest. He's never known him to lie in his life. But telling Claude that he not only thought of him once, but he thinks of him _often_... Claude can't process it. Can't think of anything beyond this singular moment in time. 

"...are you saying you don't like me being under you?" He waggles his eyebrows, arches slightly into Dimitri's touch. Gasps, genuinely, at the renewed brush of his fingertips against his nipples. "If I wasn't enjoying myself, I'd tell you." 

Knowing how strong Dimitri is, how easily he could subdue him...it's frightening, yet strangely alluring at the same time. Knowing Dimitri does not have the sort of heart to use his strength in such a way. 

"Please, Dimitri." He noses at his cheek, eyes open so he can see everything. "Been too long since you kissed me." And he kisses Dimitri, gentle, tentative, maybe teasing him a little, but in actuality, waiting for a response. Incapable of being the one to leap.

_Please, Dimitri,_ is all it takes for him to let out the most unmanly whine. Unable to muffle it, he exposes his inadequacy in front of Claude again and again. It's so hard to think when Claude touches him, nuzzling and nudging at Dimitri. 

It's so hard to believe this is really happening, that this isn't a dream. He thinks he could imagine Claude's cheek but maybe not to this level, can't help but tease back after Claude acts like they weren't lip locked mere minutes ago. 

Unable to trust his own words, Dimitri kisses Claude again. Steadies himself to memorize the shape and feel of his lips - 

\- when he pinches Claude's nipples lightly. Just enough to cause a reaction, any reaction. (Hopefully, not one where Dimitri gets kicked out of his own bed.)

"Mmph--!" He yelps into Dimitri's mouth when he feels his thumb and forefingers close around his nipples, arching involuntarily off the bed. 

It doesn't feel like this when he plays with his own nipples. Nothing about this night has been anything like he'd ever imagined. 

"Dimitri--" And he braces his hand against Dimitri's chest, his other arm still keeping him pulled close. He's above Dimitri's thin turtleneck, desperate to touch his skin...but would Dimitri ever allow it?

_I just teased myself,_ he thinks flushed and far too excited. Swallows loudly in the face of Claude's reaction, how easily his body bends to Dimitri's touch. 

It's honestly frightening. How just this little is making Dimitri feel out of control. He takes a shaky breath in, only for his breath to hitch when he feels Claude's hand slide over his chest. 

Why is this pretty, mischievous boy in his bed again? How did Dimitri get here? He feels clumsy and slow when he speaks, "Claude, do you... You want to touch me?" 

_Why,_ he thinks. _I'm hideous. What are you thinking? I never know what you're thinking... You possess my thoughts at all hours. How will I ever think about anything else again!_

"Yes," he sighs when Dimitri asks him, involuntary, unfiltered. His eyelashes flutter open to see Dimitri looking uncertain, his brow creased, eyes far away. 

Claude softens, trailing his fingers gently through Dimitri's hair, getting him to look at him again. 

"I want to feel you, too." He bites his lip. "To... to learn the shape of your body, like you're learning mine. Is that okay?" He doesn't take his hand away from where it is, though he does leave a little less pressure on Dimitri's chest. Room for him to say no. To kick Claude out of his bed like Claude already knows he eventually will.

Dimitri, of all things, looks scared. But he nods. "It's all right." Just. "I do not want to take off my shirt." And he flushes darker, feeling terribly improper, going against everything he’s ever been taught about pleasure... but wanting to be clear in his consent. 

He places a hand over Claude's hand to guide it to the hem of his top. "It will be a tight fit but you can put your hand under my shirt. If you want. I mean, I want you to." Um. "Please." 

Why is he so awkward? Ugh. He hopes Claude doesn't get fed up with him, tell him he has better things to do, more important things to accomplish, than be left - wanting. For someone with half a lick of the charm Claude already has. 

He's too pretty. Too kind. Unlike anyone he's ever met or seen... Dimitri doesn't want to blow this.

The fact that Dimitri looks frightened of him right now... It can eat away at Claude if he lets it. Knowing that even this noble prince, who is kind to everyone, has found something in Claude to be afraid of. 

But he doesn't pull his hand back from where Dimitri has left it. Just nods, fingers gripping the back of his neck as he slides the other hand under Dimitri's shirt, pressing his palm flat against the heated skin of his belly. He can feel the faint outline of old scars- and maybe that's what Dimitri was afraid of him seeing? But Claude can't quite work out the mystery when Dimitri is so warm, and firm, and _real_ above him. 

He lets out a breathless sigh, trembling as though he's the one being explored right now. Already overwhelmed by what Dimitri has permitted him, allowing his virtue to be tainted by the likes of Claude. 

"You feel so good," he murmurs before kissing him again, lips wandering Dimitri's flushed cheek.

Dimitri trembles, mouth parting at the seemingly blazing heat coming from Claude's hand - or maybe it is Dimitri whose skin is overheated. He can remember the last time someone touched his stomach. Dedue, three years ago, when he was concerned over a blow Dimitri took in training. Dimitri then had scars on his front to match the ones on his back, after the wound closed up and healed. 

"Claude..." Dimitri breathes. His stomach presses into Claude's hand. Claude, who is so wicked and can be a little mean, yet so, so kind, to be patient with the likes of him. He has a quick thought of Claude's palms on his chest, his fingers on Dimitri's hard nipples, pointing embarrassingly through his shirt, and bites down the inside of his cheek. 

It feels wrong to ask. Too greedy, when Claude followed Dimitri back after studying in the library. When Claude doesn't praise him just because he is the crown prince but because he is - 

\- Dimitri. 

Even if he doesn't deserve it. Even if it is much too kind. He shouldn't ask for more. Yet he wants. 

His thumbs go back to rubbing slow circles over Claude’s nipples as he murmurs, "The weight of your hand is nice."

He cannot help but shiver at the tender way Dimitri touches him. At the gentleness of his words. At the way Dimitri's skin feels beneath his touch, creamy and soft, his abs smooth and defined under his fingertips. 

This ought to be a simple enough transaction. Dimitri touched Claude, so he gets to touch Dimitri. Dimitri helped him study for his cavalry exam, and Claude thanked him by walking him back to his quarters and kissing his cheek. As a jape, he'd thought. Not because he had never thought of kissing Dimitri -- he has, he can admit now, in Dimitri's bed, pinned by his body. He has thought of it far too often -- but because he had banked on Dimitri's chivalry, his uptightness, to keep them both safe from more. 

But he had miscalculated, and so here he is, warming a prince's bed, arching his back into every touch. 

No one has ever touched him like this, he thinks with a whimper, his hand mapping out more of Dimitri's torso, inching northward while keeping the fabric of his shirt pulled down, like Dimitri had asked him. Not to entice, or to explore... no tenderness at all. His parents have not fully embraced him since he was a small child; in his youth, he got into the habit of binding his own wounds. 

He does not know what to do here, other than to allow it to continue, too weak to ask Dimitri to stop. Every brush of his thumbs a spark of flint on steel. Every press of his lips on Claude's igniting a brushfire inside him.

Nothing about this night is going at all how Dimitri planned. He should have been winding down now, stripped of his clothes, blankets hiding his ugly flesh from the world. Instead they are acting together on their mutual attraction... and Dimitri is slowly seeing a new side to Claude. Revealed in inches by the slow tide of time washing over them, how the boy who always must get in the last word has grown quiet, only making noises Dimitri has heard in his dreams. Slipped out of his own mouth when his cock leaks in his fist. 

The wicked reason that strikes down his spine is enough to tingle all his senses. He feels a similar rush of adrenaline that accompanies him in the training hall and - 

This is what Dimitri has always liked about working with Claude. They push and pull, refusing to run stagnant, coming from things differently… and rather than quarrel, they can solve a problem multiple ways. In his heart Dimitri knows, shamefully, he is comfortable with following and supporting, but he was still bred to be a king, and he is no stranger to taking the lead. 

Claude is moving slowly, almost cautiously, and Dimitri is too impatient, cannot stand it. Bull headed boy, no matter how he grapples with his guilt or fear. The balance shifts between them when Claude grows smaller and Dimitri instinctively becomes bigger to cover him, support him. 

His hand falls over Claude's, the thin material of his shirt separating them, but the heat of his hand is still there. He moves his hand up higher, leading him towards his pec. He feels the hem of his shirt ride up, exposing an inch of his belly and he tries to ignore it. 

"You can touch me, I said. I -" And maybe he just needs to be honest, because he knows no other way to be, and it's the only thing in this room he wants to be honest about. "- do not like how I look but I want you to touch me."

"I _am_ touching you," he says, dumbly, unsure of what else to say, uncertain what Dimitri really wants of him. Dimitri hastens his process by moving his hand higher, and Claude's fingertips cup his pec, wandering. It might seem aimless to Dimitri but Claude is... in information-gathering mode. 

Storing as much about Dimitri as he can in his brain. Knowing this will likely be the only chance he gets to learn anything real about him. 

"I like how you look," he tells Dimitri, his hand still wandering, his forearm flush with Dimitri's torso to prevent too much of his shirt from riding up. "The way your clothes stick to your body after an afternoon of training. The way you hold yourself when you talk to others. The way your..." He swallows. "Your eyes turn up, when you look at me." 

He's shivering again. Claude takes half a second to register it, and another three before he can name what it is he's feeling: 

Claude is afraid. 

Not afraid of what they are doing, but afraid of what he is feeling. Afraid of what the morning will bring. Afraid of... of waking up and finding that this, too, has become another knife aimed in his direction. 

Claude is afraid, but he also _wants,_ so desperately. Wants to keep Dimitri's attention, wants to learn what it is about Dimitri that captivates him so. Wants to feel Dimitri cover him and not feel shame or fear. And so he tries to shove down everything he is feeling, all his desperation, all his longing, all his fear, and shifts, one knee sliding between Dimitri's, fingertips finally finding the peaked bud of his nipple as he flicks it with his nail.

Dimitri's body reacts in too many ways at once. Disbelief and barely muted hope - that Claude likes what he sees. Not the prince of story books Dimitri must be to please everyone, but Dimitri. Sweaty from the training hall. Brow furrowed in the library as he battles a migraine. Clumsy in tongue and prone to making an ass of himself outside of polite conversation. 

Claude's polish has always reminded Dimitri of his inadequacy. He’s wondered too many times just what Claude was getting out of their more innocent time spent together. Surely, a political ally in the future of Fodlan. But... Claude’s attention and manner seemed to go beyond that... 

How he walked Dimitri to his room tonight, something so simple yet charming Dimitri's heart was fit to burst. And then the kiss... 

(When he was younger he sneaked a book into his room, of knights’ tales that were about more than chivalry. Fascinated with the tender touches and promises written on the page. Dimitri had longed to understand how it would feel to be the damsel swept off her feet, coveted and held in a pair of strong arms... He did not want to be her, no. Merely in her place. To be small and... 

It matters not. He is not small. Or delicate. He is. A prince. And he is the one who must do the holding.) 

His legs squeeze Claude's knee tight. His back arches, the rock wall of his facade crumbling as he cries out at the touch to his sensitive flesh. His own hand squeezes Claude's pec, to ground himself, to feel his heart beat rocket under his palm. 

"Ah..."

"Oh--" he gasps, feeling Dimitri squeeze him tighter. His hand on Claude's chest, his knees pinning Claude's in place. His own grip on Dimitri tightens, too, making him moan, this feedback loop they seem to have found themselves in. 

He swallows Dimitri's cries as their mouths find each other again, continuing to feed off one another. Claude is still frightened. Still not sure what his ultimate goal is here tonight. He does not feel ready to have Dimitri tumble him. Does not feel ready, yet, to take off any more of his clothes. 

He needs... a lifeline. To find his bearings and gain a little more control in what feels like a runaway carriage rolling down a mountain. 

One hand grips Dimitri's back through his shirt, the other squeezing his chest. He knows for a fact Dimitri is much stronger than he is, could easily have his way with Claude... but he decides to push a little. Literally push, nudging at Dimitri's shoulder. Not to throw him off, but to see if he can get him to move. 

And Dimitri does, even as they keep kissing. Slowly, turning in his arms, Claude pushing a little more, a little more... 

...until their positions have been reversed. Dimitri on his back in his bed, Claude atop him. Their hands still in place, Dimitri's thighs still gripping Claude's knee. 

Claude cannot help but sigh in relief as he kisses Dimitri, harder, his tongue slipping back into his mouth to taste him. There. He feels like he's won back a bit of the control he's lost, space to run for the door if this starts to go further than he wants it.

Holy shit. 

Dimitri's eyes keep cracked open, shuddering violently when he takes in what's happened. So slow yet intentional, how Claude moved him, made Dimitri settle flat on his back for him. 

Oh. Oh, this is. 

Never in training has Dimitri been properly rolled like this. And Claude did not have to overpower him. Merely moved him because he chose to. 

There's no way for him to translate the flush of heat that rolls through his belly, making his cock thicken and ache, bulge between his legs embarrassingly obvious. Goddess, he wants to hide it, flung back to awkward and clumsy and - frightened. 

Cannot speak with Claude's tongue in his mouth, how he kisses Dimitri harder, and the way he asserts himself - Dimitri's desire roars like flames that threaten to burn villages down to smoke and ash. And yet, absurdly, he feels himself weaken like the flickering flame of a candle at the same time. 

He does not like it. He is going to do something wrong, reveal the parts of him that he promised his father and Faerghus he would beat out of himself - 

His hand shoves at Claude, not to push him off, but to break their kiss, let Dimitri kiss his breath. Unsure of the face he's making, can only feel how his ears and cheeks flare, sweat beading on the back of his neck. "Hold, Claude. I need to slow down."

"Oh--?" He speaks involuntarily, surprised, as Dimitri pushes at him, their kiss breaking. Saliva still connects their lips for a moment - Claude watches the strand stretch and break as they both catch their breath. Hhh. He wants to explore that further, but... 

...but Dimitri is keeping his hand where it is. Not pushing him further back, but definitely keeping a distance between them that had slowly been closing over the last few minutes. A distance that, perhaps, Claude should not have destroyed in the first place with his foolishness. 

"Oh," he says again. He shifts his weight so that he is not resting atop Dimitri anymore, relieving the pressure that had been building in his groin, slow and aching and--. "Yeah, uh. Me, too." 

Dimitri is flushed, but his brow is furrowed, making a face Claude does not like. One full of remorse and reluctance. Claude does not like Dimitri looking at him that way. Does not like anyone looking at him that way, but especially not Dimitri. 

"I could... go," he offers. He pulls his hands back a little, but he is still touching Dimitri. In truth, Claude is not sure why he has not run away yet. "You're probably tired. It's been a long day, and I'm sure you want to sleep--" He bites his own words in half, grimacing at his cowardice, this flaw he cannot cure himself of. "I could go," he repeats, smaller.

If Claude goes, Dimitri can spare himself from the fumbling buffoon he's become. Can continue to hide the truth inside him. Hide it like everything else. He could lie here in his room like any other night, not looking anyone in the eye, no one here to see through him. Especially not Claude, with his sharp eyes, made sharper through his skill with the bow. (A skill Dimitri always falls short of. His vision is broad but he can never look far enough.) 

If Claude leaves he'll be alone. Alone. Dimitri looks between them, how even though they've stopped, they are still touching each other, desperate to be connected. 

'I don't want to be alone,' a voice whispers, tiny and far too powerful, to rise above the cacophony of his wailing mind. Dimitri bites his lip and places both hands on Claude's back. 

"I don't want you to go." He already feels cold after Claude pulled away. Dimitri has too many secrets to hide but maybe... He swallows nervously. Maybe this is the one secret he can share, with the one boy who is already willing to kiss him as is... 

"I do not want much more than this, I just..." And he has to look away, can feel himself mortifyingly close to an outburst, his emotions already heightened. Can't bear to look Claude in the eyes when he admits, "I would not want to lose your respect if a side of me came to the surface... that was not appropriate."

The second part of his words don't process at first. Claude is too distracted by Dimitri's hands on his back, by the words he, admittedly, hadn't expected. 

_I don't want you to go._

No one has ever said that to him. Even his parents, when he left home to come to Fodlan... They had said they would miss him, but neither of them had asked him not to leave them. And, admittedly, he is not good enough at forging strong social connections to become someone who is… missed. 

But Dimitri would miss him. Dimitri wants him here. And so, Claude's restless jackrabbit heart starts to still, and he relaxes under Dimitri's touch. 

"I... don't really want more, either," he admits, another relief, if he can admit it. He is not ready to be quite that vulnerable with anyone, though Dimitri is the closest he's come in his life. "But... I don't know what you mean by 'inappropriate'. Like I'm not right here with you, enjoying every moment." 

He chances a wink at Dimitri as he shifts his weight off him -- not moving away, but lying curled up at his side, between Dimitri and the wall. Hoping an inch of distance will help to cool his arousal.

There's disappointment at Claude shifting over but seeing him tucked between Dimitri and his wall fills him with a new, peculiar kind of warmth. Like it's Dimitri lying between Claude and the world. A responsibility he would handle, if given the chance... 

But right now, he rolls onto his side, hot cheek buried in his forearm. Forces himself to look at Claude, even if he can't look into his eyes. Still afraid of what he might see. It would deal an unendurable blow to iImitri’s whole… everything, if Claude's opinion of him changed. If he became less attracted to him... 

"Inappropriate as in," and he steels himself, words slow out of his mouth, impossibly heavy as he speaks them the first time. "I want to be the one who is... held."

Um. "Okay..." 

Claude can't help the way he frowns. Not because Dimitri's want is strange to him, but because Claude was _just holding him_ , on top of him only moments ago, and Dimitri had asked him to stop. Because he is deeming this want of his "inappropriate". 

But then he sees the way Dimitri's face has fallen. The humiliation on his face as he admits to wanting to be held. This goes far beyond thinking that Claude will make fun of him. This is... something that goes bone-deep. 

Claude touches his face, gently, making Dimitri's watery eyes snap in his direction. 

"Hey." He licks his lips. "It's okay. I..." He tries to think of a way to say it. "I'd like it that way, too. I can..." He pauses again, mouth twisting as he comes up with a scheme. Not to trick Dimitri, but to ease him into giving into something he clearly wants. 

"Dimitri." He smiles at him, quick and genuine, thumb smoothing over his cheek. "Why don't you turn around?"

"Turn around?" Dimitri's eyebrows knit together, clearly confused. He said it was all right but, ah, maybe he doesn't want to look at Dimitri anymore. His way of being kind when he rejects him... That’s what he initially thinks -- but his smile. Soft and patient, and the way he strokes Dimitri's cheek, too. 

"Okay," he chokes out, and he moves, clumsy, limbs suddenly heavy when he rolls to his other side. "Is this what you meant?" 

His heart pounding a mile a minute now that he can no longer see Claude. Wonders if the smile on his face is long gone, and his hands fist into his blanket. Blinks back tears still threatening to spill in his eyes.

The broad expanse of Dimitri's back in his sightline takes Claude's breath away. To have him be so close, so warm. 

"Yes," he murmurs. He only hesitates another moment, hand hovering over Dimitri's side, before he moves to press up against him, his front to Dimitri's back, his hands settling around Dimitri's middle. His chin hooked over Dimitri's shoulder so he can still see him. 

"You said you want to be held," he starts after another moment where Dimitri seems to freeze in his arms. "But earlier, I was holding you, on top of you, and you told me to stop…” He pauses, his lips brushing the nape of Dimitri’s neck. 

“I know I scare you. Or... something about this, scares you. But you want to be held, and..." He swallows, biting his lip, on the edge of saying that he wants to be the one to hold Dimitri. 

"...And I can hold you tonight," he finishes instead, tempering his honesty. "Like this. If you want."

It takes a long time for Dimitri to unlock the muscles in his back and shoulders. To truly allow himself to fall back into Claude's arms, the strong line of his lean body. With each breath, inch by inch, he allows himself to relax. Ever fearful of the moment a punishment for his weakness will fall down on him. The sharp crack of a scolding to his wrist or face. 

It never comes. It's just him and Claude alone in his bed. Claude's hands are warm and clasped over his belly. Minutes pass before Dimitri realizes he's crying, silent save for his choppy breathing. He has never been held like this before. 

He feels. He feels. 

"Claude," he whispers, hands trembling when they fall atop Claude's again. 

Dimitri is a prince, the only son born to a king, carrying the crest of one of Fodlan's elite bloodlines. He has always felt privileged, known his high status comes with comfort few can claim to experience. But until now, he has never felt special, cherished, the way he does cradled in Claude's arms. 

A way he’d never dared to dream any other man would make him feel. 

He tries to hide his wet face in his pillow when his tears refuse to stop. His words of gratitude wet and muffled by his pillow case.

It takes him aback, when it is clear Dimitri is crying in his arms. Claude’s first instinct is to pull back, to apologize for upsetting him. 

But... no. Something has upset Dimitri, cracked him open... but, he thinks, it is not Claude. Dimitri is relaxed in his arms, save the tensing of his shoulders as he cries. One hand covering Claude's as the other fruitlessly tries to muffle tears. 

"Shh," he soothes, and tightens his grip. One hand comes to cover Dimitri's heart, the other lacing through his fingers. "It's okay to want someone to hold you, Dimitri. Even you can't be strong all the time." 

His legs, too, somehow become tangled with Dimitri's, his right foot atop Dimitri's calf. He is a little frightened, never having seen Dimitri like this... but he does not flee, even though he was eager to only a few minutes ago. 

Dimitri needs him. It is not for Claude to question why.

"But I must...!" he sobs, wetting his pillow with his tears. His hand holding onto Claude's tight, like the last fraying lifeline he can reach. "I am to be King, I must be, hhh, strong enough to wear my crown." 

His mind and ears become a torrential flood of screams, jeers, booming voices hurling burden after burden on to him. His temples strain, threatening to split in half but no hands scurry over his back, none grip his wrist and shackle themselves to him with their ever burning flesh. 

His head aches terribly but all he feels wrapped around him is Claude. He is a weeping pitiful mess when the words wrench out of him -- how he must be his father's son, how he must do what he’s told, how this is the life he must live, how -- 

"I must be a man…! I cannot allow myself to, to _yearn._ " 

Cannot yearn to be taken care of. To be the one who receives, to be comforted when his emotions get the best of him. 

He is acting so shameful, a part of him already wants to die, and yet, he still cries. He weeps. He holds Claude's hand and prays tomorrow he will still look at Dimitri like he is... worthwhile.

Claude thinks he understands. 

For years he has had to bury his heart, to hide it, so that no one could ever reach it. To never let his weaknesses show. Never let anyone know that he, too, wishes to be held sometimes. Never let them know his fear of rejection, his dreams of inclusivity. Never let them guess his past. 

Dimitri... his heart is not hidden like Claude's, but it is heavily guarded, weighed down, by heavy armor the same way his body is. Claude did not quite understand the extent of it until Dimitri fell apart in his arms like this, the deepest hurts of his heart gasped aloud through sobs. 

"You are already strong," he says into Dimitri's ear, and moves so that Dimitri is half underneath him, still holding his hand tightly. His forehead pressing against Dimitri's, looking into those weepy blue eyes. "Dimitri. Suffering alone does not build character. Don't..." His gaze flickers for a moment, and he laughs. "Heh. Don't be like me." The lone boy in the desert, pretending to need no one. Fooling himself into thinking that friendship was a mere tool, that his own wits and strength are enough to accomplish what he wants. 

He presses his lips to Dimitri’s then, thinking to comfort him, to accept him, to show how he understands. Claude is not the one Dimitri yearns for, he knows. He simply wants... someone. Someone, anyone, to hold him, and if none of the Lions will do it, then Claude is perfectly willing. 

"Are we not men if we yearn?" he says softly, touching Dimitri's face again, rubbing one of the tear tracks away. "Don't all men want something, Dimitri?"

Again Dimitri lets Claude re-position him, so Dimitri cannot hide. He was taught to never allow another man to have power over him but he has never felt like this, guided safely from point to point. And he doesn't understand what Claude means exactly, for Dimitri to not be like him. Dimitri cannot imagine him struggling with the shame that Dimitri carries, lugged behind him, taking up space in his life he wants back. 

...when he thinks for a moment longer, he thinks of the Claude who doesn't acknowledge the whispers that surround him, of the cruel gossip that ultimately pushes him away from everyone else. How Dimitri often finds him alone with books in his corner of the library. How Dimitri found him today. 

He doesn't know what to think, how to comprehend the familiar feeling of suffering between them... Not when he is overwhelmed by Claude's permission for Dimitri to - _be_.

Claude kissed him. "You aren't disgusted by me." Dimitri swallows roughly. Sniffling unattractively. "Goddess, I... I was afraid you'd leave. That you would never look at me again." Overcome with gratitude, he pulls Claude into a one armed hug. Lips pursing together as he tries to steady himself, dry up his tears now that the worst of his outburst has left his body. 

"Oh, Claude..." Being comforted by the boy he's become infatuated with... This seemed like an impossible dream. Recklessly showing the most vulnerable parts of himself and not being thrown away - Dimitri holds Claude tighter. 

"Growing up I have never..." He doesn't know how to say this but the opportunity to do so may never come again. He thought he would have to die holding these feelings to his chest... Even just getting them out in this one moment feels like it might kill him. But he has to try...! 

"At least, in Faerghus, I have never felt like... what a man is supposed to be. The things I want are things I shouldn't."

Claude holds him for a long moment. Just holding him, and being held. Wanting to imprint the memory of this moment onto his body. Cannot help but smile, ruefully, at the thread of recognition he feels with Dimitri's words. 

"I've never been what people want me to be either," he tells Dimitri softly. Too Fodlan to live up to Almyra's expectations of a prince. Too much an outsider to be embraced as the future ruler of the Alliance. "But I can't... change these things about myself. So instead, I have to change the world I want to live in." 

He moves back to look Dimitri in the eyes, to press his lips against his one more time. 

"You can change what they think a man is supposed to be like," he tells Dimitri. "What they think a _king_ is supposed to be like." He softens. "And if you can't... then I hope you find someone you can be yourself with. You deserve that much." 

He does not dare to offer his own hand, as much as he wished it were possible. There is too much he must accomplish outside of Fodlan. But... 

He laces his fingers through Dimitri's again. Perhaps Claude yearns, too.

"It is your drive that drew me to you from the beginning," Dimitri says with a small smile between his words, before the next sweet kiss to his lips. Dimitri feels like he is floating, believing in a future too, that will be kinder to his motherland, and perhaps, kinder to Dimitri himself. He’s hoped for it all his life, with all his heart. 

His smile fades however, when Claude finishes with... that. Confusion touches his face only for Dimitri to bite his lip, flushed and upset and frankly, humiliated when he realizes the mistake he's made.

"...oh. I."

Claude makes a questioning noise, still tenderly touching him, and now his kindness feels more cruel than anything else. "Forgive... me. I misunderstood. Tonight, when you walked me back to my room and kissed me..."

His eyes flick away from Claude's face. "I thought you were courting me."

His interest wasn't serious. Why would it be? It's just like Dimitri, to let his feelings complicate everything. This is why he should have known better.

Why he should have kept pretending.

It isn't until Dimitri starts to pull his hand back that Claude realizes what a huge mistake he's made.

"You..." 

Dimitri turns away, a terrible expression on his face, while Claude tries to catch up to Dimitri's line of thinking. _Courting?_

"Courting," he repeats, and flushes to use such a formal word to describe it. All the trappings of the love poetry, the handkerchiefs... probably some other stuff. Claude is not very well-versed in Fodlan courting rituals. He didn't think he would ever need to be. No one here interests him like that, except Dimitri. 

But that does not matter now. What matters is that he keeps inadvertently hurting Dimitri with all his thoughtlessness. Made him cry earlier, spilling his guts in a way he perhaps hadn't planned to. 

And Claude has long wanted to solve the mystery of Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd... but not like this. Not by tricking him, or worse, seducing him to learn his weaknesses. 

"I didn't... think we could," he says haltingly. "Court, I mean." As the crown prince, surely Dimitri already has a betrothed? And gods only know what Claude's grandfather wants for him, back in the Alliance. But then, because apparently it's Claude's turn to humiliate himself tonight, he follows it up with: 

"I didn't think you'd want to. Didn't think... anyone would want to. Me. Uh." That heat is creeping back onto his face. Ugh. "I'm sorry if I... got carried away."

It stings. Being in the middle of such a mess stings. He knows he's pouting, upset with no way of hiding it. "Claude, did you really think I was the type to, to _experiment?_ " And the word comes out of his mouth like it's dirty, like Dimitri could just halfheartedly reveal the body he can't stand looking at in the mirror to someone for some, what, curious groping? To invite another boy into his bed, spitting on every tradition his homeland has ever instilled in him?

And Dimitri's reputation as a faithful type may have been manufactured by others as a result of his princely persona... but it's not untrue. Were Dimitri betrothed, he would never touch another person. He would save himself for whatever girl his uncle chose for him. Save everything, all of his firsts, no matter what his heart actually wants. 

"All this time I have been seeking you out and you never refused me, and then you would invite yourself and - Why wouldn't I want you? What are you talking about!" Face hidden by both his hands, his humiliation peaks again. "If I have made a mistake, just tell me." His fingers crush into his temples. 

"You don't have to hide behind excuses. If you don't want me to dream about you anymore -" _Shut up_ , he hears himself hiss in the back of his mind. _What a pathetic sight you are. Why would he want you?_ "I won't."

"I won't." He repeats in a quieter voice. Waiting for the slap to stop stinging.

He's ruined everything. Everything. Taken tonight from a sweet memory to a nightmare. Claude cannot help the way shameful tears start to prickle the corners of his eyes. 

"I didn't think you would want me," he repeats, an edge creeping into his voice, "because _no one does_. No one ever has, so why would you be the one to start? I--" His voice catches, raw, in his throat, and he curses mentally, trying to stuff his heart back into the locked chest where it belongs. 

"Before tonight," he grits out, "I thought you were just being _nice_. Like you are with everyone. I didn't think I was... special." _And you're not,_ whisper the voices in his head, _you're not. No one wants who you really are. Only who you pretend to be._

"And tonight, I... I don't know. I walked you home to repay you for staying late with me at the library, and then, this, I..." He sucks in a breath. "I never kissed anyone before. You're the only one here I want to kiss me. I didn't mean to take it this far." 

He doesn't know what he's doing. Should have left Dimitri at the door long ago. Needs to run, to save himself, to rub his hands up and down his arms in the safety of his own bedroom while he tries to process how monumentally he's fucked everything up with the boy he's admired for months. 

He doesn't belong here. Not in Dimitri's room, his bed, his arms. He needs to-- 

"I'm sorry," he says, his throat still tight, his vision starting to swim. "I should... I've fucked everything up. I should go." And he starts pulling away, his bare feet touching the floor.

Before Claude can stand up from the bed, Dimitri's hand reaches out to grab his wrist. Uses his strength to keep him there, not to harm, can hardly tell he's even doing it. Not when he realizes he hadn't made a mistake, but he will if he doesn't act now. 

"You're special to me." 

His face is a tear-streaked, flushed mess, his bangs a mess too from his crying and hiding. Dimitri believes he's never looked more winded or ugly, but this is his face, so he shows it to Claude. Along with blue eyes that are back to shining with hope he can't conceal. 

"I assumed... a lot about your intentions. You were so bold in how you spoke to me, how you handled me. I liked it. It doesn't feel like my title sits between us..." 

It's wrong of him, but at the end of the day, he doesn't want to feel like the Crown Prince of Faerghus. All he wants to be is Dimitri. While he is still young, before he must sacrifice truly everything for his future... 

...and maybe nourish the smallest wish in his heart. The wish to use his power as King to selfishly have one thing for himself. Knowing no one can truly take it from him. Maybe. _Maybe._

"I have been spellbound by you since our first meeting." 

He bites his lower lip. "If you didn't intend for this night, I understand but, you don't regret it, do you?" 

And he knows he's setting himself up for a real hurt that's truly no one's fault but his own. "You said you didn't know it was an option so... what do you say now?"

He turns back to Dimitri, his eyes brimming with tears he cannot blink away. Tries his best to process everything Dimitri is saying to him. 

Dimitri thinks he is special. Is spellbound by him. Attracted to him. Likes the way Claude handles him, in public and (evidently) in private, too. He can't... Claude can't... 

None of this was supposed to happen. He wasn't supposed to fall for anyone in Fodlan. He especially was never meant to have any of his feelings returned to him. Not by someone as... as kind, and noble, and beautiful, and important as Dimitri. 

Anyone other seventeen-year-old boy in his situation would live in the moment. Give in to what both of them clearly want to happen. Leave the consequences for the future. But Claude... Claude has always thought three steps ahead. And his dreams will never stop calling him. 

He takes a deep, shaky breath and tries to answer. 

"I don't regret it," he whispers, barely able to get the words out. "Not for a moment, Dimitri. But... the rest... courting..." 

A lone tear drips from his lower lashes, winding its way down his cheek. And once one has fallen, he cannot prevent more from following. 

"I-I don't know," he stammers, and then bursts into tears. His hand moves so that Dimitri is no longer gripping his wrist, but Claude is gripping his hand. "I don't know... I don't like not knowing things. I want you. I've wanted you by my side for so long. But..." He shakes his head, trying to catch his breath, even though the tears won't stop. "But you don't know me, Dimitri. H-how can you say you still want me?"

"Is it really possible to know every side to a person? Are we not different people to the different connections in our life?" Dimitri gives a brief, solemn shake of his head. "Tonight, you discovered a part of me I have been hiding since I was nine. And there is much more you still don't know about me." His finger curls to catch the tears that spill down Claude's cheek, Dimitri's thumb rubbing over his knuckles with his other hand. "I don't know you like I know my house, you're right." 

He frowns. Voice tired from crying but more gentle, more calm as he steadies himself in the face of Claude's tearful confession. How odd, that they've traded roles in this one night. It feels so good to hear he is wanted... Unbelievable, a gift even if Claude cannot give him any more. 

"I am not threatened by that fact. I know your character well enough to know you deserve my admiration. Even though others have been unfairly cruel to you in the Academy, you have led your class with their best interests at heart. You do not abandon them as head of house, even though it is in your power to do so. Some may call you cunning, and some may call you forgiving - personally I believe it is both. You are crafty, you lead with one hand and act with the other." 

Dimitri shakes his head again, this time with fond exasperation. "It does not bother me. There are many different approaches. I have certainly been called predictable, over-emotional." By Claude, in fact. Hah. 

"But in my heart I know you are kind. You make my head spin with your words and there are times where I have pricked myself on you. I think the difference between us..." 

Dimitri pauses. Deliberates how to take the image of his mind and make it accessible for Claude. It takes another second until, 

"Even if acres of land span between us, what we plant together has the potential to entwine and grow. If we nourish it, together.”

He sighs. "...I am sorry for getting upset earlier. I am sorry now for your tears. This is an awkward situation I put you in but this time, I... I will understand if you don't want to try." It will hurt. Like hell. An agony he will nurse for goddess knows how long... "If you tell me no, I won't challenge you.”

Dimitri pauses. "...the unknown frightens me, but it does not threaten me. If I cannot mold the past with my hands - " He can't. They whisper in his ears and his temples pulse. "I must look to the future.” 

He looks into Claude’s teary face, giving him a quiet smile. 

"I am willing to try." And he leans forward, earnest and young, to press a kiss to Claude's wet cheek. "Now that we're here, I would always regret not telling you how I felt... so this is where I stand."

Claude has not cried like this in years. Has not truly cried, in fact, since he was a very small child. Back before the world taught him that such a weakness would be weaponized against him. He’d taken all his tears and buried them in the ground where his heart still lies. 

Claude knows how to handle others' hatred, how to push past their indifference. He does not know what to do with such kind words, made all the more potent by the fact that Dimitri, so sincere and heartfelt, means every single one of them. 

Dimitri kisses his cheek, soft and sweet, and he smiles in spite of himself. 

"You always were the braver of the two of us." He sniffles, trying to catch his breath after having it hitch so often. Tears have been coming thick and fast as he listens to Dimitri, but he has not wailed. Has barely made a sound. Hardly breathed, in fact, for the emotions that overwhelm him, even still. "Hh. Dimitri..." 

He wants to give Dimitri some pretty words of his own. A transaction. To show him a fraction of the emotion he has just laid bare for Claude. But... he cannot. All the usual glibness of his tongue has left him, overwhelmed by the torrent of his emotions. 

So instead, he does all he is capable of in the moment, and flings himself into Dimitri's arms. 

Clutches at the back of his shirt, buries his face in his neck to inhale the scent of him. Soap and sweat, and salt from Dimitri’s tears. Claude holds him close to let his own tears dry against his shirt. 

Claude is a well-kept vault, filled to the brim with secrets. He is used to hiding his heart away... He could leave Dimitri, right now, and lock away all his sadness and regrets inside the vault, too. All for the sake of keeping his secrets safe. 

He would leave Fodlan, build his kinder world alone... and then have no one to share it with him. 

_Even if acres of land span between us…_

"I want to try." He whispers it into Dimitri's shoulder, then straightens, sniffling, so that Dimitri might hear him more clearly. "I... your honesty, your courage, your noble heart..." He sniffles again, then squeezes both of Dimitri's hands in his. "I want to... to protect that heart. To hold you without making you feel weak. And, me..." 

He squeezes his eyes shut. "I _am_ weak," he whispers. Cowardly, shrewd, always avoiding a fight rather than facing it head-on. "But you always make me feel stronger, Dimitri. So... yes. For you, I can try."

_Maybe we're both weak,_ Dimitri thinks, quietly moved, and in spite of his migraine aching in his temples, the base of his skull, he feels a sense of... peace. For all they are different, they are the same in this regard. Both of them hiding who they are, out of fear and... He doesn't know. Dimitri doesn't know who he'll become, growing alongside Claude, and who Claude will be exactly... 

But he wants to find out. He knows all too well he will not be rewarded for all the chances he takes. There is likely to be another tragedy in his lifetime, more loneliness, more sorrow, but tonight he is rewarded with the beautiful boy crying in his arms. 

Claude is no longer pretending. He is willing to try for Dimitri. Dimitri has never been worth anything before, not on his own merits… He is not sure if he knows how to be worthy of this. 

He rubs his hands down Claude's back, a shy smile painted on his lips. "Thank you. Aha... I seem to be all out of words, now that we're here." His smile turns sheepish. "Can I kiss you again?" 

_Can I kiss you forever?_

His tears have mostly dried up, but his emotions have not. Hope, brimming in his chest in a way he hasn't let it in years. Affection for this sweet boy who does nothing but accept Claude, over and over again. 

He nods, his words dried up again, and without waiting for Dimitri to move, he heads in, their lips fitting together in a way Claude wants to keep exploring. 

Something he might actually be able to explore properly, in the weeks and months to come. 

He doesn't know how to thank Dimitri for his bravery. For taking a chance on someone like Claude, letting him rest in his arms during his moments of weakness. When he can no longer pretend to be someone he is not. 

Dimitri kisses him, keeping him welcome in his arms. Claude has never felt like he belonged somewhere, but... 

"Can I stay here for a while tonight?" he whispers, pulling back from Dimitri by a scant inch, their noses still nuzzling each other. He feels wobbly, wrung out from his crying. He is sure he looks much the same. "Just to rest… I promise not to… to cry on you anymore."

"I want you to stay every night," Dimitri says without thought and then sputters at himself. "I'm sorry, I didn't - I mean, I _did_ mean it but not... Oh, Goddess. It's fine. And you needn't clarify to me. I would never presume anything more." 

He allows himself to rub at his temple. "I gave myself a small headache after crying, so I would not be much of a partner to begin with." These soft kisses are pushing his limits enough. He doesn't need to go on though, Claude is tired, and Dimitri is used to his migraines. 

"Let me lend you my handkerchief, so you can clean off your face." 

Pulling it from his nightstand, Dimitri passes it over to Claude.

"Heh..." He sniffles, taking Dimitri's handkerchief with a watery smile. "You're sweet. Thank you." 

He pats under his eyes, thinking about what it would be like to sleep here, every night. To have Dimitri's house members know his business. It's... a lot, that Dimitri is offering. 

"I won't make a habit of... this," he says, gesturing at his eyes. "I'm sorry." He shuffles closer to Dimitri, using a dry corner to wipe at the eyes of his new... 

Paramour? Lover? He does not know how to define their new decision. Only that he is Claude, and Dimitri is Dimitri. And together, they are something more. 

"I could, um," he ventures, once the handkerchief has been refolded and set aside. "Rub your temples, if you want. To help with your headache." But before anything else, he leans and kisses Dimitri's forehead, gentle. Because he can, now.

Somehow, Dimitri blushes harder at that suggestion than when Claude had rolled him on to his back. He bites his lip again, a bad habit he normally suppresses except for tonight, where he can't seem to hide his secrets from Claude. "Sleep will help, I'm used to..." He trails off, mentally pinching himself in his side to step into his discomfort, to take this gentle moment Claude is offering. "If you want,” he says lamely. 

Turns to adjust his pillows, if he's going to do this. He does best when he’s in recline, to keep any nausea from his migraine at bay. 

"And you don't need to apologize. I made the bigger scene between the two of us." With his - weeping. Thankfully, his pillowcase has already dried. 

Claude doesn't know if this will help, but he wants to try, regardless. Leans over Dimitri to blow out the candle so they are lying in the dark, nose to nose. Reaches to press his first two fingers to the bone of Dimitri's temple, rubbing in little circles. 

"I get...tension headaches a lot," he offers quietly, trying to find Dimitri's eyes in the dark. "This helps sometimes... But if this doesn't help, or you know something else that does, just tell me. I... I want you to be comfortable." To make himself useful to Dimitri somehow, so it will be harder for him to throw Claude out. 

"And you don't have to worry about...crying in front of me," he offers. "I'd never hold it against you. And...and I know how to keep a secret." He can't help but smirk in the dark.

"This is nice..." It won't ultimately do much for his headache; if anything, it will make him fall asleep quicker, which is all Dimitri can hope for. It's been awhile since he stayed up all night in pain, and he's not eager to repeat it.

He curls an arm around Claude's middle, hand resting on the small of his back. Can't help but smile in the dark, knowing he is permitted this closeness, that Claude is not put off by who Dimitri really is. Someone insecure, in need of... coddling. 

"Thank you, Claude." He whispers, like Claude is someone or something holy. 'You'll put me to sleep like this, haha..." It's already happening, and in the next few minutes, sleep is what makes his eyelids grow heavy, his breathing slow down and deepen. 

And before slumber finishes encroaching on him, Dimitri whispers again. "Please wake me up before you go, I don't want to... miss you..." 

Another minute and he's asleep, arm wrapped around Claude like he wants for nothing else.

His heart grows tender the longer he stays here with Dimitri. Feeling him curl up by his side, a hand at the small of Claude's back. Keeping him here, even though Dimitri is not using any of his strength. 

Tenderness is foreign to him. He wants to escape somewhere safe to try and examine this night in detail so he might plot his next move. 

But Dimitri asked him to stay. Asked Claude to wake him before he went. And with Dimitri sleeping so peacefully...well. Claude doesn't have the heart to wake him just yet. 

So instead, he reaches for the blanket at the foot of the bed, pulling it over them both. Watches Dimitri stir in his sleep before settling into Claude again. 

He ought to go, Claude thinks even as he yawns, exhausted by his display of emotion earlier, the wild wyvern flight tonight has been with its dizzying heights and plummeting lows. This bed isn't big enough for two to comfortably sleep in, anyway. 

He yawns again, fingers settling on the back of Dimitri's neck, and shuts his eyes. Just for a minute, he thinks, even as he drifts off. 

Maybe he really can stay here, just for a little while.


End file.
